


Abyssal

by Tipsy_Kitty



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Cultural Differences, Dubious Consent, HYDRA Trash Party, Interspecies Sex, Other, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-11-06 17:24:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11040807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tipsy_Kitty/pseuds/Tipsy_Kitty
Summary: He’d had a name once, but he has been imprisoned for so long that he scarcely remembers it.





	Abyssal

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [(Pic) - Abyssal](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11695380) by [TheDrunkSoldier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheDrunkSoldier/pseuds/TheDrunkSoldier). 



> Inspired by TheDrunkSoldier's gorgeous art, go look!
> 
> Also using this for the tentacle square on my hc-bingo card.

He’d had a name once, but he's been imprisoned for so long that he scarcely remembers it. Imprisoned, electrocuted, starved...after so many years, so much pain, his name has faded with the tides. He had slowly come to understand that he would never be returned home, and if by some miracle he was, his family probably would no longer recognize him.

 _Creature_ is what his captors call him, and he supposes that is as good a name as any.

He tries to die, but he cannot. He suspects his body will not let him, not in this strange world he's been tethered to. He curses the strange blue pulse of light that brought him here so long ago.

He floats endlessly, mindlessly, through an uncountable number of tides.

And then, and then…

The door to his enclosure opens slowly with a grinding screech of rusty metal on stone.

This means fresh food...sometimes. 

This means the unpleasant sensation of electricity shooting through his limbs...sometimes.

But sometimes, _sometimes_ , his captors will venture too close to the edge where salt water laps at the stone steps, and Creature will draw them down into the briny depths, wrapping his limbs around them as he sinks to the bottom, feeling their small bodies shudder as they run out of oxygen. They die screaming in agony and Creature is pleased.

Much more often, ascending to the surface leads to pain and torture, and he spends many tides hiding when his captors come to visit. 

These days he welcomes even the pain because his enclosure is vast but unchanging, and he's found that boredom is an even worse form of torture than the pain.

And then, and then…

The door screeches open, and Creature bobs to the surface, curious.

There are three this time, pink-skinned and fearful.

Well. Two are afraid. The one in the middle is being propelled by the others; that one is scarcely conscious, metal-toed boots scuffing across the stone floor.

“Here fishy,” says the first pink captor, throwing a sack of half-dead crustaceans into the dark water with a splash.

“Soldier! Look alive!” says the other. “Goddamn, he's heavy.”

“Gave him too much juice this time?”

“Don't matter,” says the second with a grunt of effort. “Insight’s going live tomorrow, won't need this creepy fucker around anymore.”

“Wait, don’t get too close to the edge. If we're lucky, one of these fucking things will kill the other.”

Yesss, Creature thinks. He likes to kill the captors...

He drifts just below the surface, waiting until the one they call Soldier is shoved down the steps and into the water.

But this small creature thrown into his enclosure seems…

...not like the others. 

He is only half dressed compared to the guards, and his eyes are strangely blank. Creature suddenly is not so sure that this one is a captor at all.

“Whatever, man. Let's get the fuck out of here.” The captors leave, and the heavy door closes with a clang. The iron bar that seals the door drops back into place with an air of finality.

Creature twines his long limbs around this new offering, hauls him back to the surface so he can breathe. He runs questioning tentacles along Soldier’s body, cataloging abrasions and scars and an unnaturally heavy mechanical limb that seems to have been wrought from iron.

This one is definitely not a captor. Creature suspects that he, too, has been imprisoned. Starved. Tortured.

Creature could let this Soldier sink to the depths as so many have before, to moulder until Creature is too starved to ignore their tenderized flesh any longer.

He could, but he doesn't. Soldier is not like the others. Soldier is like him. A prisoner.

 _They are gone_ , Creature says in his native tongue, and Soldier startles.

But of course Soldier can't understand him--the high-pitched warbling of Creature’s kind is barely audible to these captors with their pitifully limited senses.

He wraps his long red limbs tightly around Soldier, offering comfort. 

Soldier goes limp in Creature’s embrace, and Creature glides them forward until Soldier can kneel on the watery steps. He thinks Soldier needs food, and maybe rest, but Creature has been so long without the touch of another, a touch that didn't inflict pain, and he sends his smallest tentacles out to wrap around Soldier tentatively, questioning.

Amongst his own kind, unwanted touches are unheard of. A questioning tentacle is slapped sharply as the unwilling recipient jets away, trilling a warning. 

He probes tentatively at the black hide covering Soldier’s lower limbs, waiting for Soldier to slap him away and retreat to the door, out of Creature’s reach. But Soldier does not. He stiffens for a moment, takes a deep breath, and then relaxes into Creature’s limbs. He lets Creature pry away his black hide, the heavy, waterlogged boots, and so Creature thinks this Soldier must also be starved for gentle touches, for pleasure.

Creature’s cool red limbs dance across Soldier’s bare flesh and tug gently at his damp hair. He strokes down the mismatched upper limbs, cataloging their differences, the tiny bumps that break out on the right in the wake of Creature’s soft caress, the plates that shift and whir on the left. Soldier squirms in his grip, and Creature stills, waiting for Soldier to pull away from Creature’s grasp.

But Soldier stays, and so Creature continues his explorations. His curious limbs roam over the bare skin of Soldier’s torso, playing with the small nubs that stiffen at his touch, stroking the strong lower limbs until the muscles quiver. He curls a tentacle around the soft mating organ between Soldier’s legs, noting how it becomes engorged as Creature strokes it, how Soldier’s breathing speeds up.

When Creature brushes a limb across his lips, Soldier opens his mouth and draws the tip of it in, running his tongue along it, probing at a sucker. The gentle sucking is like nothing Creature has ever experienced, sending waves of pleasure through his body. He continues squeezing the mating organ, pulsing in Soldier’s mouth, while probing between Soldier’s legs. Soldier stills again, for just a moment, and Creature thinks maybe now Soldier will end this. But then he presses his face to the stone floor, arching his back and spreading his legs further apart, offering himself to Creature.

And so Creature continues the mating dance, prodding between the rounded globes until he finds entrance. His own mating organ, long and slick with lubricant, slides between Soldier’s legs and presses into the tight hole. He feels Soldier gasp around the tentacle still writhing in his mouth as fine tremors ripple down his back. His body squeezes tight around Creature’s organ even as it grows larger in circumference, fat with seed, pressing into and filling Soldier’s warm passage. Soldier rocks back onto Creature’s fully engorged organ, bucks into the limb still milking his own organ, and sucks greedily on the tentacle in his mouth, as waves of exquisite pleasure course through Creature’s body until he climaxes, pulsing jets of seed deep inside Soldier’s body. Seconds later Soldier gasps, his own seed spilling onto the stone floor beneath him.

Creature trills happily, wrapping his many limbs around Soldier like a blanket.

But then...but then…

But then...Soldier doesn't touch him back, continues facing the entrance, still kneeling, and Creature worries that the disturbing blankness has returned to his expression.

Realizes that he doesn't even know if that expression ever left Soldier’s face.

Realizes that Soldier never actually initiated any soft touches or caresses of his own. Merely accepted Creature’s touch. Withstood it. 

Possibly only endured it.

He unwraps his long limbs from Soldier’s body and Soldier pushes away from him, retreats to the far side of the stone platform on shaking legs, and huddles against the iron door.

The blank expression on his face has been replaced with one of fright.

Creature dives to the floor of his enclosure, finds the freshest food to bring to the surface.

An offering.

But Soldier stays pressed against the door, not coming any closer, and Creature leaves the oyster on the top stair.

Creature descends to the floor of his enclosure, thinking about how very pale, how very small Soldier looked, tucked into himself far from Creature’s reach. 

He sucks listlessly at a small mollusk as he broods about this cruel, alien world.

From high above, Creature hears an odd sound, shell against stone, and then he sees the oyster he left on the stairs for Soldier spiraling down to the bottom of the enclosure in slow circles. The shell is empty, the flesh devoured.

Creature feels a spark of hope.


End file.
